


Breaking Point

by Roguex1979



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: Anger, F/M, Gift Fic, Handcuffs, Happy Ending, Magnus is a jerk!, Masterbation with a non-loaded weapon, Rough Sex, Roughness, There are reasons though, Unrequited Crush, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2013363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roguex1979/pseuds/Roguex1979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're visiting Magnus hoping to celebrate him getting his own case, but when he comes home in a rage, you taunt him and push him too far, until he snaps. Magnus has a gun, and he knows how to use it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THIS!!
> 
> This fic contains the use of a gun for the purposes of masterbation leading to an orgasm. Everything is safe, no one is in any danger and this is made clear in the fic itself.
> 
> This is a gift for a Facebook friend. CH, I hope you enjoy this!

[ ](http://s1369.photobucket.com/user/Roguex1979/media/magnus_zps4b0e48ec.jpg.html)

You sat on the gaudy couch reading a magazine waiting for Magnus to come home. He’d mentioned to you over the phone a few days ago that he didn’t have time for your visit as he’d been given a pretty high profile case, his own _proper_  case, finally! Not a stupid burglary. Not a petty theft. A murder! He’d been so happy when you spoke, happier than you could remember, well; happy for Magnus anyway. The man hardly showed any emotion other than annoyance. He’d always been so dour about his job, how he was under-appreciated, general dogsbody of the team, answering the phones because no one else could be bothered to do it.

Magnus was, in general, a complicated fellow. You’d known him for years and hardly scratched the surface of his personality. Sometimes, you thought he only tolerated you because you were technically cousins, by marriage, not blood, and saw each other at the odd family function you both attended. Of course, you  _always_  attended a family function, just in case he happened to be there.

Over the years, you had developed somewhat of a crush on the tall, lean, curly blonde-haired man. You had only been a young teenager when you first met him at the marriage of his uncle to your aunt, and you’d immediately started following him around like a love-sick puppy. As you got older and bolder, you openly flirted with him, which he would half-heartedly reciprocate, but nothing had happened. But you just kept falling for him until you were fully in love with him.

When he became a detective for the small coastal town of Ystad, you’d asked him about every aspect of his job, just liking how he talked about it, just so he would speak with a little passion. He showed you his badge, his gun (a SIG Sauer P225 or ‘P6’ – he was very proud when they gave it to him, and you feigned interest in it as he explained how it worked) and even promised to show you their new offices when they were set up. You didn’t really care about any of it, but you hung on his every word because of your feelings for him.

Now that you were an adult, you’d made sure to keep in contact with him as often as you could, noting how he’d only speak to you in between girlfriends, and living about an hour away from Ystad in Copenhagen, it was easy enough for you to visit him when it was convenient…for  _him_  of course. You’d even broken up with a boyfriend because he’d called you saying he’d broken up with his girlfriend and did you want to come over for some  _fun_. You’d broken up with the poor sod within minutes of Magnus’ call telling him the love of your life wanted to be with you. The  _fun_ , as it turned out, was Magnus bitching and moaning about the slag, after which he’d told you to leave because he had to work early the following morning.

Needless to say you had apologised profusely to your ex begging him to take you back, which he had, until you kept getting texts from Magnus and he finally wised up about your continuing infatuation.

Over the last year or so, though, your visits with him had been filled with frustration for you. You’d turned into his own personal soundboard for his problems at work and in love, and eventually, you formed the opinion that it was never going to happen between you two, so you started listening to his whining, but, you’d become very sarcastic about the whole thing, feeling slightly jades by his lack of affection for you. You’d poke fun at him, be mean to him, which he had at first thought was funny, but soon, it became apparent that he didn’t appreciate it. He’d kicked you out the last time, and you hadn’t been back to see him since.

Not until he called you up to gloat that the bane of his existence, Kurt Wallander, had left the team for some reason or another, and that he was being given more cases to lead on, even if they were pretty inconsequential (his words, not yours). You’d taken that opportunity to tell him you were going to visit him to see what it was like to have a normal get together, where he would be happy and excited for a change. He’d said okay, but then he’d called you back a couple of days later saying you couldn’t visit because he was too busy with a murder case, something he’d been waiting for his whole career. And you thought ‘Fuck that, I have a key, I’ll just let myself in!’

Which you did. So you were waiting. You kept yourself occupied giving his apartment a quick tidy up and a dust, admiring the solid looking sconces on the walls by the front door, looking through his record collection, books, checking every now and then to see if you could hear Magnus coming home. When you’d finished, you found a few magazines with local gossip articles in them to keep you busy.

You had just finished re-reading one of the magazines going over articles you may have missed when you heard loud footsteps stop at the door and keys in the lock. You dropped the magazine neatly on the dark wood coffee table and stood up, arms open, ready to greet the not-so-junior detective home.

The door flew open, hitting the wall as it did. Magnus was muttering something under his breath stepping through and slamming the door shut behind him causing the windows to rattle. “Fuck!” he screamed and punched the door. He then turned around and noticed you there. He looked surprised, but this quickly changed to irritation. “Oh, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, exasperated. “I told you  _not_  to come.”

“Nice to see you too,” you said with a frown. This was not what you were expecting at all. Yes, he may be busy, but he should be happy at least.

“It’s not,” Magnus said angrily with no regard for your feelings, stalking over to the middle of the room, and dumping his backpack on the table on top of your neatly spread magazines. He took off his black blazer revealing his dark blue striped button up, his black t-shirt poking up from underneath, and threw it at the coat stand. It missed and landed in a heap on the floor.

You ‘tsked’ and went over to pick it up, hanging it on one of the hooks. “I just tidied the place up for you, Mags,” you scolded.

“Did I fucking ask you to?” Magnus growled turning towards where you stood.

“Geez, what’s got your goat then?” you asked him. “You were ecstatic when I spoke to you a few days ago. What’s happened?”

Magnus put his right hand on his hip, just above his gun holster (which you noted still held the weapon and handcuffs) and lifted his forefinger on his left. “For starters; you’re here when I told you not to come.” Another finger lifted. “Secondly, we’d hit a minor blockade in the investigation, but everything was making sense, neatly wrapped in a little package.” A third finger. “Then Wallander just appears out of the blue after  _months_ away and introduces new evidence he just  _happened_  to find and wants to take over the case.  _My_  case.  _My fucking_  case!” He was shouting by now. “And fourthly,” he added after a brief pause, glaring at you, his voice a little less loud, but no less filled with anger, “you’ve tidied up my shit and you  _know_  I hate people touching my shit.”

It was true. You had slight OCD and so seeing his place messy all the time near killed you whenever you visited, but he would never let you clean or tidy or straighten for him because he called it organised chaos. He knew where everything was. “For fuck sakes, Mags, will you calm the fuck down?” You rarely swore, only ever around him. He brought it out in you. “I wasn’t about to let an opportunity like you being happy be missed.”

“Well, I’m not happy,” he retorted, “so you’d better just go.” He gestured to the door.

“No way!” you said crossing your arms. “You’re here now, I’m here. Let’s just have a drink and calm you down.” You went to step towards his kitchen, which was currently behind Magnus. You would have to walk around him.

“I don’t want to fucking calm down!” Magnus screamed, stopping you in your tracks. “I wanted to come home, to my messy place, be alone and go over my notes on the case without Kurt asking me questions I’ve already answered, and without some little girl fawning over me between boyfriends.”

This hit a nerve. You’d never just been to see him or spoken to him when  _you’d_  been between boyfriends; it had always been him. “Hey!” you took offense, poking a finger in his direction. “I am  _not_  a little girl anymore, and I am  _not_ fawning over you between boyfriends. I’m here to see a friend.”

“Oh please!” Magnus scoffed. “The only reason you ever come here is in the hopes that I’ll fuck you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up with his words. “No…no, I don’t!” You tried to think of a way to change the (very true) subject. “Aren’t you supposed to leave your gun at the office if you’re not on duty?” you snapped.

Magnus looked down at his weapon. “I  _am_  on duty,” he said gruffly. “I’m on call if I need to go out about the case.”

You went into full blown sarcasm mode, still seething with anger. “So, not the big shot lead on the case anymore that you have to be on call instead of the one  _making_  the calls? Magnus answering the phones again, going over paperwork again.” You could see his expression darkening as he got angrier. You knew you should have stopped, but you couldn’t. “’Yes, Kurt! Right away, Kurt! Whatever you need, K…’”

You didn’t get to finish your taunt before Magnus lunged at you and you found yourself pinned against the wall harshly, his left forearm pressed against your chest. “You shut the fuck up right now!” he yelled in your face.

You were completely startled, your eyes wide, looking up into Magnus’ blue ones, his height oppressing you. He’d never been violent when you’d made fun of him before. Yes, the last time, he kicked you out, but this…it was a stupid move. Stupid, stupid! “I’m sorry!” you whispered, slightly terrified.

Magnus glared down at you, his jaw clenched and growled slightly, squashing closer to you. He was quite a bit taller than you, something you found very sexy, and as such, pressed this close to you, you could feel his crotch pressed against the curve of your waist above your hip. To your surprise, he felt…hard. You weren’t sure how to react to it. Your eyes glanced downwards, not really sure what you were hoping to see, but it brought your reaction to Magnus’ attention.

“Oh, you like the feel of this?” he asked with a sneer and ground his pelvis harder against you. You gasped when you felt it  _was_  a hard-on. “I knew you were just here to get fucked.”

Your immediate reaction was to deny it, even though you  _did_  want it, but it really wasn’t the only reason. “I’m not…” But Magnus shushed you with a finger to your lips.

“You’ve come into  _my_  home uninvited, touched  _my_  stuff without permission and made me very angry,” he stated, his voice now a low whisper as he leaned forwards until his mouth was by your ear. “And now you’ve also given me the fucking horn.” His tongue darted out and licked the shell of your ear, causing you to shudder. “I think that  _all_  deserves some punishment, don’t you?”

You didn’t have time to gather your thoughts before you felt Magnus move away from you slightly, grabbing your wrists and lifting them above your head. “Keep them there,” he commanded and took his handcuffs from his belt. You didn’t move, curious what he was up to when you felt the cool metal of the cuffs cinch around your right wrist. Magnus then looped it over the sconce above you, and the other wrist was similarly captured. “There, that’s better,” he said stepping back admiring his handiwork.

You pulled experimentally on the cuffs knowing there was no way you’d get out of them, unless Magnus  _let_  you out. You looked at him and his smirk sent shivers down your spine. What was he going to do? You suddenly felt very vulnerable in your flimsy spaghetti-strap vest and loose fitting linen trousers. Magnus was looking at you like he was assessing the situation carefully. His hand absently rubbed at his bulge. He seemed to come to a decision. He strode forwards again and leaned his forearm against the wall beside your head, using his other hand to tilt your face up to look at him. He then claimed your mouth; hard.

You squeaked, parting your lips, which he took as permission to push his tongue between them. This wasn’t at all how you’d imagined your first kiss with him. You thought there might be romance, a gentle peck followed by some passion. But this was raw and gritty…and you liked it! You began to kiss him back, your wet appendage dancing with his. You let him lead; he probably wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Just when you thought you were going to run out of air, he pulled away, panting. “Okay, so I’ll give you what you want,” he said, his voice gravelly. He reached between you with his right hand and undid the ties of your trousers, popping the button and letting the fabric slide down your hips and thighs, pooling at the floor. Using a foot, he shoved the article of clothing away and then placed the same foot between yours and kicked them apart slightly. This lowered you ever so slightly, pulling your arms straighter, putting a little more pressure on the cuffs. You hardly felt them digging into you, adrenaline rushing through you at Magnus’ closeness.

Moving back, Magnus put his hands roughly over your breasts, smirking when he realised you weren’t wearing a bra. His large hands kneaded you through your top caressing your nipples when they became harder and poked through the material. He placed the pads of his thumbs against them and circled them symmetrically, flicking them, all the while looking at your face to see your reactions. You keened slightly at the feeling, arching towards him wantonly.

Removing his hands from you only to lift your top up to rest below your chin, he placed them on your waist and lowered his head to take the left nipple into his mouth. You cried out with pleasure as his tongue swirled, his lips sucked and his teeth nibbled. He did the same to the other, so as not to neglect them.

You felt him lower one hand to play with the elastic of your panties, lowering them slightly. He dipped his fingers lower over the underwear and touched you where you had only dreamed of him touching you. You were very aware of how wet you’d become since he’d pinned you to the wall, and you blushed when he noticed.

Lifting his head, a wicked grin still on his face, he rubbed along your clad sex. He used both hands to grip the sides of the panties and pulled them down and off you completely. He tossed them across the room. “Do you want me?” he asked looking at you with an intensity that struck you right to your core. It was a silly question. The answer was obvious. You nodded emphatically. “Do you want me to carry on touching you there?” Again, you nodded. “With my fingers, or…?” He pulled away from you and un-holstered his gun. “…or with this?” He held the black weapon in front of your face.

Fear clenched in your stomach and you took in a breath. You weren’t sure how to answer him. Surely that was dangerous! You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Magnus reassured you, “the safety’s on, there’s no bullet in the chamber and the magazine’s in my backpack.” He approached you; his blue eyes were darkened with lust. “I remember you being  _very_  interested in my gun before. Perhaps you’d like to be better acquainted with it?” He leaned against the wall again and lowered the weapon, skimming the tip of the barrel along your pubis and down the junction of your thigh and your mound. He slowly brought it up along your slit, and a thrill of danger and arousal spread through you. A breath hitched in your throat as the 'sight blade' rubbed against your clit gently.

The cool metal of the gun set goosebumps rising across the expanse of your skin. Magnus pressed slightly harder and you mewled. He claimed your lips again and began to use the whole 7 inches of the barrel of the gun to stroke you. It was strangely erotic and although he didn’t attempt to actually fuck you with the gun, he did seem intent on bringing you off this way first.

As the gun became slick with your juices, you began to shift your hips in conjunction with Magnus’ movements of it. He then took his lead from you, moving as fast or as slow as you needed it, still kissing you with reinforced passion as your breaths through your nose intensified the closer you got to your climax. You sped up, moaning, begging into his mouth to make you come. He obliged and pressed the hard metal against you, grinding it against your clit firmly until you screamed out your pleasure and your orgasm hit you like a wave against rocks.

Magnus moved away from you as you shuddered, the P6 still pressed against you. He pulled this back causing you to whimper, you still so sensitised. You looked at him through hooded lids, panting, and when he brought the gun up to his lips and licked your fluids from it with one languid stroke, it was enough to send another mini orgasm through your core.

“Filthy girl,” he growled, leering at you. He casually threw the gun onto the couch and unbuckled his belt, popping the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. He dug into his boxers to withdraw his cock, which was rock hard and huge! Your eyes widened at the sight. “More intimidating than the gun?” he asked, amused. He palmed the shaft lazily and came closer to you. “It should be.”

Grabbing the backs of your knees, he lifted you up. You squealed as the weight of your body was temporarily pulling on the cuffs, but Magnus wrapped your legs around his waist and hoisted you, his arms encircled around your waist. Without wasting any time, he pushed his turgid flesh inside you.

You cried out in ecstasy as he filled you, inch by inch, going deeper and deeper; the biggest you’d ever had, until he was seated entirely within your tight passage. You heard him groan, and it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard, knowing he made that sound because of you. “Fuck, you’re so tight!” he muttered, burying his head against your hair. He lifted and looked into your eyes. “Are you okay?”

And there it was; the gentle passion you’d been looking for in him, the knowledge that although he was being rough with you, he still appeared to care enough to ensure you weren’t in any pain. This brought tears to your eyes and you sniffled, but nodded your head. You were so wet that his entry had been exquisite and smooth.

He gave you a rare smile that was not touched with any negativity and kissed you on the lips, still reflecting the harshness with which he’d begun, and gentle Magnus was gone again. He began to fuck you hard, each thrust as brutally powerful as the last, punctuated with grunts. His arms tightened around you and you did the same with your legs, trying to get him to press as deeply as he possibly could.

Magnus left your mouth and nibbled on the skin below your ear, down to your shoulder and back up again. He couldn’t have  _known_  how it would affect you, but probably hoped it would do exactly what it did. You shivered and clenched your muscles around him, groaning with pleasure. You felt him falter at the added pressure on him. “Fuck!” he grimaced through gritted teeth against your neck. He picked up his speed, his movements animalistic now, biting your neck harder, sure to leave marks.

“Magnus! Yes, please, harder!” you keened. You shifted the angle of your hips against him and gasped sharply when his thrusts hitting your sweet spot over and over and over. “Please! Make me come again!” you mewled.

Now panting loudly, his face scrunching as he neared his own climax, he moved his right hand round and down to your wanting nub, pressing his fingers against it, circling it fast, your fluids making the movements slick and easy. It was all it took for you to come for a second time. You screamed his name to the ceiling, not caring if Magnus’ neighbours would hear. Your insides fluttered around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts accompanied by a loud groan of his own, Magnus flooded you with his searing seed.

A few gentle flicks of his hips ensured that he was milked for every last drop as you continued to clamp down on him with every movement. When he was spent, he lowered your legs gently to the ground and pulled out of you. Your legs could barely hold up your weight, but you had no choice. You could feel the mixture of your juices and his semen began to trickle down your thighs. You watched him tuck himself away and reach into his pocket, pulling out the keys to the cuffs. He unlocked you and caught you as you fell towards the ground.

“Whoa, you’re okay,” he said, lowering you softly to the carpet. He stood up and went to the bathroom and you could hear running water. He came back a few seconds later with a damp flannel and began to rub the fluids from you.

“Thank you,” you said weakly with a laugh. “You were right; I had wanted that for a very long time.”

Magnus huffed out a half laugh and continued wiping. “I think I needed that as well,” he said. “Much better than rubbing one out after you leave.”

“What?” you laughed, shocked. “I didn’t think you liked me that way!”

Magnus smiled again, his blue eyes looking at you, almost looking into your soul. “Of course I did…I do. But you know nothing long term can come of it because of the work I do; you know all my other relationships have failed because of it.”

“Yes, I do know  _very_  well,” you said rolling your eyes. “You never shut up about it.”

Magnus laughed. “Well, I didn’t want anything physical to happen between us because I don’t want us to end up like me and those other girls. You are special to me, as a friend, and I wouldn’t want to lose you.” His expression changed as something dawned on him. “I couldn’t stop myself this time, I’m so sorry. Last time I had to kick you out before I jumped you. Now I have, and…” He pulled away from you, but you caught his arm.

“Mags, this doesn’t have to be how you think it will be,” you tried to reassure him. “Yes, I do want something more with you, well, I used to. I got sick of waiting for you, so I resolved to just be your friend. Why don’t we just take things slow and see where they may lead, if anywhere?”

Magnus’ eyebrows knitted together in a frown, but eased as he processed your words, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. “Slow? Are you kidding? I’m going to want to fuck you every chance I get!” He growled playfully and pushed you down onto your back on the carpet, the flannel long forgotten.

You laughed and tried to push him off. He pinned your arms to the floor beside your head. You pouted. “Don’t you have paperwork to go through?” you jibed.

Magnus leaned down and kissed your neck. “Fuck the paperwork,” he rumbled.

“I’d rather you fuck me,” you whispered with a moan.

So he did.

THE END


End file.
